


Mark Me

by FrankiValerie



Series: After Omega [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6212041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankiValerie/pseuds/FrankiValerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewritten second chapter of After Omega,  with more to come. </p><p>Caleb is character of co-writer (Twitter @tortuga_caleb) and I have his permission to post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mark Me

They marched together through Omega. No hand holding, no cooing over each other, no heavy petting. It wasn’t their style. Affection was weakness. Public affection, the kind of affection that spelled ‘love’, was weakness on display, and that really wasn’t their style. Caleb didn’t explain where they were going, or say anything else about his ship or the crew he captained. He didn’t have to. Jack had trusted him blindly for a long time now. He’d earned it. Jack stayed silent from leaving the apartment. Hundreds of complex thoughts were buzzing around in her head as they headed for the docks but it was a short and simple yes/no question that managed to push out her lips. 

“Did we fuck?”  
Caleb looked her, brow furrowed, “Not since that night outside Akbar’s.”

She looked right back, brows raised, “That was like 3 years ago!” 

He nodded, looking at her like she’d said something stupid. 

“So… last night?” 

Realisation hit home and he smirked, “Nah, J, you were way too far gone. Passed out as soon as you hit the pillow. Stripped first though,” his grin was just growing as she felt her cheeks burn, “or tried… you mumbled something about wanting my ‘delicious lips’”

Now she remembered; stumbling through the door, grabbing at his shirt and belt then giving up and trying to ‘seductively’ tear off her white straps before she’d removed her jacket or pants. 

“Oh… fuck…” 

She faced forward again and folded her arms over her chest, pursing her lips, pretending like she wasn’t totally mortified. He laughed and walked closer to her, holding her waist, “Disappointed, J? Y’know there’ll be plenty time on the ship…” 

She pushed him away, though somewhat hesitantly. No doubt he’d see that she really wanted him to stay close, but couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t push it. 

It was a relief to board a ship that was nothing like the Normandy. Caleb’s ship was smaller, though only a little, and the inside was a lot more traditionally human than the Normandy’s ‘modern’ and ‘contemporary’ collaborative design. It was old too, but the older models were the safest and sturdiest. 

Once on board she waved him away, “I’ll find my own place to stay.”. 

He called after her “Could always bunk with me, J!” but she just flipped him off. She liked exploring a new setting; figuring out where the exits were, mapping the dark and quiet hidey holes and studying the crewmen from a safe distance, making sure there were no nasty surprises before they had to take off. 

Maybe she’d find his quarters later. She shouldn’t kid herself. Best way to get over someone was always to get under someone else. If she was gonna be reaching out for anything stable to hold onto and pull it’d be Caleb’s strong shoulders, grasping him tight and dragging her nails down his back, pressing herself tightly against his firm chest as he furiously….. 

… well, fuck. 

She shook herself and cleared her throat, focusing instead on her surroundings. 

She finished her exploring just as the ship jumped to FTL and ‘conveniently’ found Caleb’s quarters last. He wasn’t there yet so she looked around. 

Surprisingly it was bigger than Shepard’s cabin, but darker. No bright blue fish tank illuminating the room with a sickening neon sheen. The bathroom looked a little bigger too, but then Shepard’s had been downright cosy… 

 

Jack wore a mischievous grin as she jogged over to Vega in the Shuttle Bay. He had his back to her but glanced over his shoulder when he heard the unmistakeable heavy boots of his new girlfriend, “Hey Bella, what’s the rush?” He kept his attention on the shotgun he was modding, even when she perched that tiny backside on his workbench and started to whisper in his ear; 

“Boy scout’s planet-side on some cookie run, we got half an hour and his cabin is empty… Kas and Traynor say his shower is amazing. Thought we could check it out?” Vega didn’t reply or even react until his mod was clipped into place and he was happy with the gun’s weight. Then he placed it down and turned to her, eyes searching hers. She was still grinning, and he knew that look in her eyes. 

He smirked and leant in to kiss her, moving his hands to either side of her face to keep her pressed against his lips, then pulled back and nodded, “lead the way.”

She slipped off the workbench, playfully tugged at his collar and led him up to their Commander’s cabin. He’d begun to undress her almost as soon as the elevator doors closed, and she hadn’t cared that there were 4 floors where someone else could board in between their location and destination, let them look.

 

There had hardly been enough room for her and James in that tiny shower cubical. With his wide shoulders and barrel chest, he really had no choice but to press her to the wall, letting the water run over their bodies as he let his hands search her, whispering in her ear how much he lov-- 

Her breath hitched in her throat and she held her stomach, trying to control the deep and powerful ache that had taken over. She manoeuvred herself onto the couch opposite the bed and hunched over, holding her head between her knees and arms over her head, breathing deeply.

How long did she have to feel like this? How long before he couldn’t hurt her anymore?

She remembered she had never replied to his message. She had still been on the  
Citadel and it was too soon to think about what she’d want to say to him. 

When she opened up her omni-tool she saw he’d sent two more messages. There was also messages from Kasumi, and even the fucking Cheerleader. 

Vega’s first had been “Can we talk when you get back to the Normandy?” 

She wasn’t going back 

Next was Kasumi: “Jackie, where are you? Shepard said you got off at the Citadel. Did you come back? You didn’t say goodbye!” 

Her heart panged with guilt; she hadn’t even thought about saying goodbye to anyone when she left. It was force of habit, she never had to say goodbye in the past because she always left a lifeless crater behind. She made a mental note to call Kasumi before they got to Grissom. 

Then the message from Miranda Lawson; Jack frowned and would have deleted it if “Ensign Prangley” wasn’t the subject line: “Jack. We picked up Ensign Jason Prangley on the Citadel and are taking him back to the Academy. Lieutenant Vega has been asking about you. I tracked you from the Citadel and saw you got on a transport to Omega. Likely you think this was an invasion of your privacy, and I await a ‘threatening’ response, but I had to inform Shepard you would no longer be on board and the Lieutenant overheard. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to be careful on Omega, and even surer that you likely won’t take heed, but there are lingering signs of Cerberus and you may still be on their list of targets. Be aware. Regards, Operative Lawson.” 

That bitch. Miss fucking Priss. There’d be no reply. Threatening or otherwise.

The second message from Vega came after; “Miranda says you’re going to Omega? Fuck, Jack, be careful.”

She scowled at the small holographic letters; “be careful.”

She hoped he was worried sick about her, and smiled cruelly at the third and final message;

“Jack, just send me something, anything, I wanna know you’re okay.”

I’d be just fine if he hadn’t torn me down… she thought, spitefully, and closed her OT.

She wanted him to suffer like she was suffering. Hoped he was down in the shuttle bay punching that pussy-shit sand bag until his knuckles split open, or his wrists fractured - whatever came first or was more painful. 

She could send him a message back and let him know exactly what was going on. That she was fine, in fact better than ever, and on her way back to Grissom Academy. That she had spent the night with Caleb, and was currently in his quarters, definitely not bruised or worn out and in physical pain because of his stupid break up… 

What would hurt him more? Not hearing at all or hearing that she was enjoying her time away from him with another man who she had so much history with?

“Should be in Alliance space in less than a day.” 

She jumped up, startled, then scowled at the cheeky grin on Caleb’s face. 

“Fucking awesome.” she muttered, sitting back down. He had a data pad in his hand but flung it onto his desk and settled in beside her. 

She tensed and folded her arms. It was hard wanting to be close to him and still aching because of-

“Tank been sending a bunch of messages?”

She looked at him, taken aback, “How’d you know?”

“He sent me one too. Quite the adorable little love note. He saw us on the Citadel. Guess he thought he could threaten me.” He smirked, kicking off his boots and laying back. 

“Fucking meat head still thinks he fucking owns me…” She slouched, pouted, then remembered; she’d left her mark on his shoulder – the omega symbol that was on her back was now on him, too. And she’d started to tattoo a combat knife on her calf as his mark. 

She shook off her boots and rolled up the leg of her pants, swinging her leg onto her lap and looking at the fresh tattoo of a half-finished combat knife, glad that she had been interrupted before getting to finish it. She stared down at the knife. It stung. The same ache that rolled around her chest and stomach whenever she thought of James. 

She couldn’t bring herself to touch them, for fear of them burning her fingers like acid. She couldn’t see anything past what they were; evidence that she had been entirely his… and now he didn’t want her…. 

She was shaking too much to tattoo herself.  
Caleb had noticed and he was now scanning the mark, “New ink, J?”  
“Can you cover this up?” 

He just looked at her, his brow furrowed again. 

She frowned right back, “It’s his mark, I don’t want it there.” Her voice broke but her face stayed hard.

“Make it yours then, instead,” he suggested, “Add to it, and it won’t be his mark anymore.”She nodded slowly, and balled her shaking hands into a fist to try and steady them. She squeezed so hard her fingers ached and palm cramped. She flinched and her voice shook, “I can’t, I just…” she couldn’t utter the words aloud, instead she just said, “Make them your marks instead.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Sure, Jack? Kind of a big commitment there.”

“We’ve been through a fuck tonne of shit together. Good and bad. And you’ve been there for me when I needed you most. Even when I wanna ring your neck, our memories are good ones, and that ain’t gonna change. You’re a fucking good friend, Caleb. At the very least, you’re that.” 

He stayed frozen for a moment then nodded curtly, moved her leg again and got up, moving back to his cluttered desk. She slumped back against the sofa and shrugged off her jacket. 

“Dunno if I still got a tat gun…” He muttered, rummaging around in a box by his desk. 

She laid her head back and closed her eyes, breathing deep and stretching her fingers out, wishing she could stop hurting. 

He returned, wearing a triumphant grin and holding an old-looking wireless tattoo pen. 

“It’ll do.” 

It was oddly easy to just fall into a comfortable position beside him, her leg over his lap. It was strange how at peace she felt, with his hands on her skin. It was familiar yet foreign at the same time. His heat seemed to just calm her. The buzz of the needle on her flesh was a friendly pain that distracted her from all other discomfort.

She watched him work, sat sideways, shoulder against the back of the couch. First he added dramatic shading, using it to thin the blade to a dagger’s size. Then he worked on changing the handle to look metallic and sleek. 

Like her, Caleb worked in silence. He was happy with drawing freehand - more character that way. Their ink was their life, their story. It had to be a work of art, original in design and entirely unique to them. 

She found it soothing; the low hum of the tattoo gun, his warmth, and the familiar friendly pain of a new chapter of her story. 

“Y’know, J…” Caleb spoke slowly, clearly concentrating on the tattoo, “If you wanna… stick around… instead of going back to the academy…” Jack lifted her eyes to his face, studying.

“And work for you again?” She didn’t mean for it to sound the way that it did; as if the whole thing was laughable. 

Caleb lifted the tattoo gun and shifted slightly, “well… yeah” then he looked at her, “I think you’d be a good fit. And you know I wanna have you around more. What do you think?”

Jack met his eyes and thought, but the pause was enough, “Forget it” he added, turning back to her leg, “You already said you needed those kids, I won’t get in the way of that.”


End file.
